From Shadows, I Come
by Rowan Cousland
Summary: AU, Post BvS. The world is still in mourning after the death of Superman,and it's up to Diana and Bruce to continue their roles as beacons of hope for humanity. But when an attempt is made on Bruce's life from a familiar, shadowy organization, it's up to Diana to track down the assassin and put a stop to his terror. But nothing could have prepared her for the man behind the gun.
1. Chapter One

From Shadows, I Come

A Wonder Woman Fanfiction, inspired heavily by "Captain America: Winter Soldier"

Chapter One

Diana Prince had formed a routine ever since she'd settled into her cozy little apartment in Paris. Every night, after work, she would return to her home and relax; maybe turn on the radio and pour herself a glass of wine. She would eat whatever leftover take-out she had in the fridge and go to bed around 11. Everything was consistent; almost perfect for her.

What remained inconsistent were her dreams… Some nights they would be pleasant. Some nights, she would return to the warm, soft sands of Themyscira. She would revel in the sounds of the waves, the smell of the salt in the air…

Sometimes her mother would be there, sitting in silence and enjoying the sun. Other times, Antiope would be there. She would call out to Diana, encouraging her to come continue her training.

Sometimes... She would be with him again. She would be in his arms, hearing his laugh, seeing his smile...

And then, the ringing of her alarm clock would yank her away from her bittersweet dreams.

A lot had changed since the self-proclaimed "war to end all wars". The title had been ironic, since Diana had come to see at least five more wars come to fruition since. At first, it had broken her heart. But war had just become a side effect of the world Diana had integrated herself into.

But nothing could have prepared her for how the aftermath of World War l would affect her.

It was one thing to witness the horrors she'd seen. It was another thing to defeat the god of war, and come to terms with how cruel humanity could be...

But it was another thing entirely to have to relive it all over again in her dreams.

It had never been as bad as Charlie's fits had been. Much later, when Diana had learned the nature of PTSD, her heart went out to him. Knowing the things that had undoubtedly gone through the Scotsman's head made her wish she'd reached out to him just a little bit more.

After the war had ended, though, things had started to go back to normal. Sami, Charlie, and Chief had gone on to make lives for themselves. Charlie had put his love of alcohol and music too good use, eventually opening his own bar in Glasgow. Every time Diana had visited him he would be belting his heart out behind a grand piano.

Sameer had taken to the stage, living out his dream of becoming an actor. Despite facing the harsh racism, the world held for him, Sami had made a name for himself in London. The last show of his Diana had seen was Macbeth, and she had been blown away by how easily he could slip into character. He'd done Shakespeare proud.

Chief hadn't changed much. He was still a smuggler by trade, although he made significantly less money when the war ended. He had found himself wandering, not really settling down or calling one place home. The nomadic life had suited him, but he'd continued to write to Diana up until his death.

Over time, all three of them had passed; leaving Diana as the only reminder of their legacy. They had been heroes, and she was hell-bent to make sure history never forgot them.

At the very least, she never would.

The grandfather clock in the corner of Diana's living room struck midnight, warning her that she was once again staying up late. She found herself staring at the aged photograph again, resting safely between two sheets of glass nestled in a foam padded suitcase. Her fingers ran across the glass, tracing the outline of her friends.

She would have to find a way to display the piece without the risk of damaging it. She'd worked so hard to track it down; she wasn't about to let anything happen to it. For now, she decided to slip it back into the case and gently tuck it under her bed.

Just as she had straightened herself out again, the phone on her nightstand rang. Without missing a beat, she picked it up to answer it.

"Bonjour," she greeted.

 _"Diana?"_

She paused, taken aback at first by the voice over the phone. "Bruce. I wasn't expecting you to call."

 _"Yeah, well,"_ he chuckled. _"I got your email. I figured it would be a good idea to check up on you. Was it delivered alright?"_

"It's… It's perfect, Bruce," Diana replied, her thoughts briefly returning to the suitcase under her bed. "Truly, I am grateful. I don't know how you found it, but… Thank you."

 _"I managed to pull a couple strings,"_ Bruce answered. _"I had a few favors owed to me. But I'm glad I was able to get it back to where it belongs."_

Diana could hear the creaking of a chair, and the sounds of shuffling over the phone, indicating Bruce adjusting himself in his seat.

 _"Any chance I could hear that story of yours?"_ he asked.

"Another time," Diana sighed. "I really should be heading to bed soon. It's getting late."

 _"Before you go, I have an offer for you."_ Bruce said. _"I've been looking into those files Luthor had on those 'metahumans'. I know that we talked about reaching out to them."_

"Indeed, we did. What did you have in mind?"

 _"I'm hosting a charity event this weekend. We can talk about it then, if you'd like."_

She paused, taking a second to decipher Bruce's words. He wanted her to come to Gotham.

But for what purpose?

"Bruce…"

 _"I just feel like this is a conversation better suited in person,"_ he sighed. _"I'm not trying anything funny, I promise…. If we're going to assemble this team, we need to be on the same page."_

Upon thinking about it, she realized that he was right. It would be hard to negotiate and assemble any sort of team whilst being in opposite countries.

"I'll put in for the time off at the museum, but please warn me earlier next time. I too can pull strings, but there's only so long one can go on doing it."

 _"I'll keep that in mind,"_ Bruce replied. Diana could hear a smile in his voice. _"I look forward to seeing you again."_

"The feelings are mutual." Diana added. "Perhaps this time I won't feel the need to break your arm."

Bruce chuckled at that, recalling his mistake of laying hands on her the first time they met. Had they not been in public, Diana surely would've cost him a hand. _"I'll be polite this time. I got the message. I'll see you this weekend then."_

"See you this weekend," Diana concluded, ending the call.

She collapsed back onto her bed, sighing as she stared at the ceiling.

It had only been a couple months since the death of Clark Kent; since the death of Superman. The world was still in mourning. But Diana and Bruce were taking it upon themselves to create a team to fill that void Clark had left.

Until they found these "metahumans", as Luthor had called them, it was up to Batman and Wonder Woman to remain as beacons of hope for mankind.

It was more than a little overwhelming at times. But it was Diana's duty as both an Amazon, and to herself.

She reached over to her nightstand, turning off the lamp before slipping under her soft blankets. She let the sounds of the streets below her gently lull her to sleep.

Upon ending his call with Diana, Bruce Wayne found himself sitting back in his overstuffed leather chair and staring at his computer screens before him. The profiles of three men sat projected on the screen: Arthur Curry, Barry Allen, and Victor Stone. He had their names and faces, but tracking them down and recruiting them would prove to be a challenge. If he was going to keep the persona of Batman separate from Bruce Wayne, he had to go about the next steps carefully.

He couldn't just go waltzing into wherever on Earth these men were and wave around the Bat Signal. He needed to be strategic. He had to find a way to convince them.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes as the strain from staring at the screens set in.

"Another late night, Master Wayne?"

Bruce turned his gaze towards his butler and personal caretaker, Alfred Pennyworth, holding out a mug of coffee for him.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce sighed, taking the mug from him. "I was just looking over the profiles again. Trying to think about what my next move should be."

"I see," Alfred replied. "Shall we be expecting Miss Prince this weekend?"

Bruce nodded. "Prepare a room for her, if you could. "

"Anything else before I retire for the evening, Sir?"

"That will be all. I'll come to bed soon."

Alfred strolled off without saying another word.

After Bruce had finished up his coffee, he found himself wandering the halls of the Bat Cave lost in thought. There was a lot of weight on his shoulders now, both as himself and Batman. He could only imagine what it felt like for Diana.

A familiar shock of red and yellow caught Bruce's eye, and he paused his walk to turn and face it.

Staring back at him was his greatest failure, encased in glass and graffitied in yellow spray paint. He could see where the crowbar had torn through the leather. The suit was worn and singed from the explosion of the bomb that took the life of a boy he'd considered his son.

The suit was a constant reminder of how he'd failed, and he refused to fail like that ever again.

He let his hand fall onto the glass and looked back up at the tattered Robin suit.

"I'm sorry, Jason," he mumbled. "I'll make this right, I promise."

Once he and Diana assembled this team, the world would never have to worry about Jokers or Doomsdays, or Lex Luthors ever again.

Bruce brought his hand back down to his side and walked away from the glass. In silence, he made his way to the elevator and took it back up to his manor.

After this fundraiser, he wouldn't procrastinate anymore.

After this week, the Justice League would come to life.

Nothing was going to stop him from making things right.

Not this time.

 **A/N: Hi everybody! I'm sure you're all wondering what's been going on with my other stories. For right now, consider them on hiatus. I've been struggling to write for about a year and a half now, but I've finally got my inspiration back! So, for now, I hope you guys enjoy this story. I'll be updating it on here, and eventually on AO3 as well. Until then, feel free to review. This chapter was a teensy bit short, but it's setting up the plot more than anything.**


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Diana had traveled a lot since she'd come into Man's world: London, Paris, Berlin,Athens; she had become a regular globetrotter. Some of it had been business, others had been pleasure, but one thing always remained the same.

Airport customs were always a headache.

Sometimes, all it took was a wad of cash or a flash of a smile to get security guards to look the other way from her sword and shield stashed away in her carry-on.But even that had lostitscharm.

It was upon befriending Bruce that she no longer had to worry about such matters. Having a friend who owned his own private jet hadits perks.

She was greeted by Alfred on a private air field where he promptly ushered her onto the plane and helped get her bags stashed away.

Before takeoff, Diana had gotten comfy in her seat and was greeted with a glass of champagne from Alfred.

"I'm surprised Bruce hasn't joined us." She commented.

"Master Wayne has some matters to attend toback home before the gala tomorrow evening," Alfred replied, seating himself across from her. "Invitations, catering, and the like. Typically, I take care of things like that. But he insisted on sorting it out himself."

"Sounds exactly like him," Diana chuckled. "As stubborn as ever."

"Stubborn and pigheaded," Alfred addedwith a laugh. "Not to mention he has a habit of running into action without thinking everything through.But, his heart is in the right place."

Diana knew that well. Her first encounterwith him on the battlefield had proven as much; once he'd come to realize that Clark truly hadn't been a threat.

"Speaking of which, what type of charity is this gala supporting?" She asked Alfred.

"Master Wayne will be donating all the funds he receives to the Gotham City Orphanage. He plans on auctioning off some art pieces, as well as dances with some of our more… Prestigious guests."

Big heart aside, Diana had to admit to herself that she was impressed with Bruce's choice of charity. "Any particular reason why?"

"Aside from the kindness of his heart?" Alfred chuckled. "Well…Let's just say that Master Wayne has a special connection with that orphanage. Some good friends of ours have come from there, and I assume that it's time for us to pay our respects to it."

 _"Looks like I'm not the only one with a story to tell."_ Diana thought to herself. It was ironic, considering how Bruce had been hounding her for hers.

For the rest of the flight, Diana and Alfred made idle small talk. The two seemed to enjoy each other's company throughout the long flight.

When they had touched down again, Alfred and Diana were greeted by a chauffeur before finally being taken to Wayne Manor.

Nothing had changed since she'd last visited the manor. The rosebushes that Alfred prided were as beautiful as ever; the fountain in the middle of the front courtyard babbled away with its cascading water. The large front windows gave the outside world a sneak peek of what Gotham's Golden Boy kept in his home, sparing noexpense when it came to luxury. The house was opulent, but nothing compared to the palace of Themyscira.

Diana stepped into the foyer, noting how open and spacious it was. She was greeted by a large, unlit fireplace and a grand piano sitting in front of it. Despite herself, she found herself fiddling with the keys and producing a couple notes. A small smile played on her face.

"Diana."

Bruce's usualgrufftone met her ears, and she turned to meet her friend.

"It's good to see you." He said, ascending the stairs in a rather warm looking sweater and jean ensemble. He gripped herforearm, and Diana returned the greeting.

Her smile turned to a grin. "The feelings are mutual, Bruce. We really shouldn't put off these visits so often."

"Well, once we get this team of ours figured out, we'll be seeing a lot more of eachother," He chuckled. "But you must be exhausted. You should rest up a bit, and maybe we could have dinner?"

"Shall I prepare something, Master Bruce?" Alfred chimed in.

Bruce shook his head. "Not tonight, Alfred." He replied. "Take the rest of the night off. Jet lag has never been good on you."

"Much appreciated," The butler responded, sounding pleased with Bruce's answer. "If you need me, I'll be in my room."

Bruce nodded at that, and turned to Diana again.

He led her upstairs to one of the many guest rooms,ultimately leaving her along for the evening.

Diana set her suitcase down with a sigh, deciding to prepare herself for tomorrow night. Despite it being a presumably safe event, she had to prepare herself for the worse.

The dress she'd chosen was a wine-red color, stopping just short of her knees with a slit up the thigh to provide mobility and easy access to the thigh holster for her lasso. Sewn into the back of the dress was a sheath to encase her sword; a trick she'd learned long ago for sneaking weapons into fancy parties.

Her bracers, minus the leather wrappings, were an absolute necessity. She'd planned everything to provide her an arsenal, yet appear fashionable. She smiled as she looked over her attire for tomorrowevening. She couldn't help but wonder what Etta would think, seeing how she'd adapted to modern day fashion.

She'd joined Bruce down in the dining room a few hours later, greeted by the smell of lamb and traditional Greek spices. She couldn't help but be amazed as she sat down, especially upon realizing that Bruce had done all of this without Alfred's help.

"So, the star of Gotham City can cook?" Diana teased him as she got herself comfortable.

"You know, both my parents could cook too," He commented. "As much as I value Alfred's help, I can't exactly let him have all the fun."

He seated himself across from her, helping her prepare a plate. Something told her he'd been planning on this since he'd called her.

The two drank and ate to their heart's content, enjoying each other's company. It was nice to not have to have dinner alone; it was something both Diana and Bruce knew to well.

"So…. Who's the guy?" Bruce asked.

Diana nearly choked on her drink from the suddenness of the question. "I'm sorry?"

"The email," He replied. "You told me 'thank you for bringing him back to me'. I just wanted to know who I was being thanked for."

She sighed, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "That photograph was of myself and some friends…. One of whom I had come to care for, if you really must know."

Bruce's face softened, and instantly Diana caught onto hints of regret in his features.

"Diana, I-."

"It's alright," She said. "Really, it is. I just… Haven't talked about it in a very long time. I'm so used to keeping it to myself. I hope you understand."

A small, sad smile played on Bruce's face. "I do, and I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have pressed it… It's just…. I need to know who I'm working with."

"And yet you keep secrets yourself." Diana pointed out. "If you're allowed to keep yours, I should be allowed to keep mine."

Bruce winced at that, realizing that she was right. A long, dreadful silence had fallen over the two of them; and with a sigh he rose to his feet.

"Tell you what," He said. "By the end of this weekend, I'll tell you everything you want to know. No more secrets; all cards on the table. Does that sound fair?"

Diana mulled over the idea in her head. She really hadn't wanted to come to this. But Bruce was determined to clear the air with her.

"Alright. Tomorrow night then." She replied. "In return, I shall do the same. No more secrets."

Bruce nodded in agreement before turning to look at the clock. It was getting late, and he had to get plenty of rest for tomorrow.

The two departed with sincere "goodnights" before ultimately turning in.

The next day, everything had changed.

Diana had never been one to enjoy the types of parties that attracted Gotham's socialites. All the laughter and drinking amongst the privileged while others had to scramble to get by made her blood boil. She understood why Bruce maintained connections with these people, but it still bothered her to know he was allied with such awful people.

She knew not all the wealthy were like that, though. There were a select few in Bruce's inner circle that Diana didn't mind getting to know. People like Harvey Dent and Jim Gordon were always a welcomed sight.

Still, she stood at the edge of the ballroom in the middle of the Gotham City History Museum, feeling just as out of place as she had since the first day she had entered Man's world.

"Enjoying yourself?" Bruce asked her, striding to her side with a drink in his hand.

"Hardly," She replied, taking the drink from him. "I look forward to the event being over. Even if it is for a good cause, these people are just…"

"Insufferable?" Bruce chuckled. "Believe me, I know. But when you're one of the richest people on the Eastern Sea Board, you have to play the part."

He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a smile. "Don't worry. It will all be over soon. I just need to make a couple of speeches before Alfred starts bringing out the auction items. Until then, just try to enjoy yourself."

Diana nodded, looking up at the podium at the front of the room as a man announced for Bruce to step forward.

"That's my queue. Try not to have too much fun without me.

Diana sighed at that, shaking her head as she was once again left alone.

Bruce strode up to the podium, putting on a smile that would put a flight attendant to shame, and waving to his crowd as they applauded.

"I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight,"Heannounced, his voice booming over the microphone. "All donations will be given directly to the Gotham City Orphanage; benefiting our city's troubled youth, and guaranteeing them a safe place to stay and be taken care of."

Diana couldn't help but smile at that. Despite his shortcomings, Bruce really did have a big heart. His charity work showed that.

There was clapping, laughter, and sounds of boisterous approval from the crowd. Bruce flashed his award-winning smileyet againand rose his hand to wave at his adoring audience.

And then, Diana saw something.

A small, red light almost hidden amongst Bruce's tie.

Diana's eyes widened; but before she could even move, there was the sound of a gunshot. A sniper rifle.It was a sound Diana knew well.

Bruce dropped to the floor almost instantly, and two more shots rang out.

There was blood pooling around him on the floor.

Diana rushed to his side, unbuttoning his shirt to examine the wounds.

He'd been wearing a bullet proof vest. But whoever had fired the shots had aimed directly under where the vestended; just below the stomach.

Alfred rushed towards Diana, helping her keep pressure on the wounds. He was on the phone, frantically calling 9-1-1. It was strange to see him break his normally calm demeanor; but given the circumstances, Diana couldn't judge.

Above the commotion, Diana could see a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Almost like a flash.

She paused, slowly turning her head tosee someonemoving in a building across the street. It was the exact same directionthat the bullets had come from.

"Alfred, watch over him." She said, rising to herfeet.

Alfred looked up to her in confusion, but that soon changed into awe as she procured her sword from the sheath tucked into the back of her dress. She kicked off her heels, knowing that they would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Without another word,she rushed towards the window.

She smashed into it, sending glass flying outwards and into the street. Pushingoffthe window ledge with her foot she launched herself towards the building, crashing through the opposite window and landing with a roll into a hallway.

She could hear heavy footfalls running above her, and she immediately bolted for the stairs.

Her pursuit led her to the roof, where she saw a man dressed in dark clothing, protected by pieces of black combat armor. He had a sniper rifle strapped to his back, and his entire demeanor read as someone not to be crossed.

But Diana was never one to listen.

Just as she was about to rush at the man, she suddenly felt her feet sweep out from under her by a harsh kick from behind. She face-planted into the ground, quickly trying to regain her composure once she heard the man attempting to rush away.

"Go, go!" An electronically masked voice hissed. The assassin leapt from the roof, dropping into the building below.

Diana immediately jumped to her feet again, only to have her path cut off by another intruder.

A man dressed similarly to the assassin stood before her, his face obscuredby a red metal helmet.

"Well, well. Diana Prince. Call me starstruck."

His voice sounded as if he was speaking through some kind of voice modulator. He stood at least a foot taller than Diana, and held the same idle stance as the assassin. Cold and calculating; stiff and intimidating.

But he did nothing to dissuade Diana. She was determined to catch the assassin, and this manwasn't going to get in her way.

She attempted to rush past him, deeming him as not much of a threat compared to the assassin, but he proved her wrong.

He landed a punch on her jaw sending her stumbling.

As she glared up at him, she regained her footing and attemptedto slash at him with her sword.

He jumped back, dodging every attack she made towards him.

"I gotta admit," He chuckled. "You're just as feisty as the stories say.I was a fan of yours as a kid."

Diana wasn't here to talk. This man was in her way, and she was determined to remove him.

His martial skills were impressive. Hecouldpredict most of her attacks before she couldevenexecute them.

Before Diana could react, the man landed a swift kick to her abdomen.

Her sword went flying from her hand, and she slid across the rooftop, managing to standher ground despite the attack.

"This is pretty much a dream come true," The man admitted. "But I gotta warn you, Diana; you're in way above your pay grade."

"Enlighten me, then." Diana retorted. "Let's skip to the part where you tell me who you're working for, and why you're trying to kill my friend."

"First off, I'm not trying to kill anyone. Not today, at least. Secondly: your friend has more blood in his hands than you realize. He's had this coming for a long time."

"That is not for you to decide." Diana retorted, as she thumbed the button of her lasso's holster through a slit in her dress. Her lasso fell into her hand, and with a flickof her wrist she casted it out.

The man was taken by surprise, ensnared in the lasso's grip as Diana pulled it tight.

"Now, tell me who you are." She demanded.

The man went rigid, his fists clenching as he fought against the lasso's hold.

"The more you struggle, the more this will hurt you," Diana explained. "Just make this easy for yourself. Please,just tell me who you are."

He let out a heavy breath, clearly at the end ofhis rope in terms of resisting.

Before he could answer her question, Diana suddenly caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of her eye. A small, red dot reflected off her bracelet, telling her that a sniper had her in their sights.

The sound of a gunshot went off, and Diana was quick to deflect the bullet.

As she did, the helmeted man took this opportunity to pull himself free from the lasso.

The sniper kept firing, and Diana ultimately had to give up on the lasso altogethertoprotect herself.

The helmeted man rushed to the edge of the roof before turning towards Diana again.

"It's been a pleasure, Princess," He said. "But my friend and I will be wishing you a good night. Say hello to Bruce for me."

He stepped off the roof effortlessly, dropping to the fire escape below him and making his way to the alleyway. Diana couldheara motorcycle revving, and taking off into the busy Gotham traffic. The sniper's laser left out of sight, and Dianawas left alone on the rooftop.

She found herself standing on the edge of that roof, trying to catch sight of the helmeted man, or the mysterious rifleman.

But, much to her dismay, they were long gone.

But they were the least of her worries now. She still needed to make sure that Bruce was alright and that he was receiving proper medical care.

More importantly, she had to make sure that no one tried to finish what the man with the sniper had started.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The hospital had been absolutely packed.

Reporters were crammed into the halls like sardines, fighting to catch a glimpse of Bruce at his most vulnerable state.

Diana paid them no mind. Instead she kept her head up, her back straight, and marched through the crowds to reach Bruce's room.

When she finally made her way in, she slammed the door behind her.

Much to her surprise, the room was empty; minus Alfred sitting in the corner with his head in his hands.

"Where is he?" Diana asked softly, fearing the worst for a moment.

Alfred sighed, lifting his head to meet her gaze. "He's... He's going in for surgery. The doctors are worried about the amount of blood he lost..." He trailed off, running his hands through his hair. "I've had to bury every member of this family..."

"And you won't have to bury anyone else." Diana said, taking a seat beside him.

Alfred nodded, but he didn't seem convinced. "Did you catch them?" He asked her. "Did you catch the bastard that did this?"

Solemnly, Diana shook her head. "There was two of them. One of them pulled the trigger, the other was some form of back up. They both got away. But I won't let them get away again."

She rose to her feet, and began pacing back and forth. "I know Bruce has plenty of enemies, but how many of them know about his double life?"

"None, I would hope." Alfred replied.

"One of the men said that Bruce has 'had this coming', and that he 'has blood on his hands'. I thought that Bruce had a 'no kill' policy?"

"For the most part. There have been some instances where he's had to break that code. But what did this bloke look like? He's acting as if he knows Master Bruce."

"He kept his face hidden." Diana admitted. "He wore this red helmet. It masked up both his face and his voice."

Alfred looked up at her, almost as if he was connecting some dots.

"That... Is interesting." He commented.

"What about it?" Diana asked.

"Many years ago, there was an incident at a chemical plant with this group of thugs known as the Red Hood gang. Master Bruce has always been a bit vague on the details, but I'm sure he could go over it with you once he's recovered."

Diana nodded, trying to let her mind settle.

Hours went by. Before they knew it, dawn had broken.

It seemed like an eternity, but they finally got some good news.

Diana could hear the sounds of shouting outside, and the door to the room opening to a hospital bed.

Bruce was brought into the room, and his doctor shouted in the hall for the reporters to leave before he called the police.

To put it lightly, Bruce looked awful. He was coming down from whatever drug-induced state the doctors had him in, and he was wrapped up in bandages across his chest.

Still, when he caught sight of Alfred and Diana, he had the biggest smile his face could manage.

"Well... You two are a welcome sight."

Diana couldn't help but grin in return, taking a hold of his hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Bruce retorted, bluntly, only to realize the company had. "I sorry, I mean I feel awful. Tends to happen when you get shot at... But the bullet didn't get very far."

"Surprisingly enough, it did very minimal damage." The doctor added. "You're very lucky to be alive, Mr. Wayne."

"Indeed he is." Alfred commented. "How soon can he return home."

"I would like to have him recover here for at least two days. Possibly more, but it really just depends on how his body reacts to the stitches. But I'll keep the paparazzi at bay."

"Thank you." Bruce replied. "Could I have a moment with my friends?"

"Of course." The doctor said, giving a nod. "I'll just be outside the door."

As the doctor left the room, Bruce took a hold of Diana's wrist.

"Did you find them?" He asked, his voicing bordering on panic. "Tell me you found them."

Diana sighed, relaying everything that she had said to Alfred. At the mention of the red helmet, Bruce's eyes went wide.

"You're sure? You're absolutely sure the helmet was red?"

"Positive."

He pondered for a moment before letting go of her and leaning back in his bed.

"Bruce, what's this all about?" Diana asked.

"The... The Red Hood gang was essentially where the Joker came from." Bruce explained. "It was all one big accident... But this doesn't seem like the Joker's style. He's more about chaotic theatrics than subtlety."

"And there's still a matter of the man behind the sniper." Alfred added. "Perhaps Miss Prince would benefit more from the profiles of your... Adversaries?"

Bruce nodded at that, turning his gaze to Diana. "In my bedroom, there's a desk. In the bottom right drawer, there's a false bottom. Inside the compartment is a hard drive. Take that down to the Cave and you can read whatever you like. Whatever helps you narrow down who these scumbags are."

"You're letting her use the computer, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, feigning a look of offence. "I thought only I was allowed to use it. That was part of our special bond. Our 'us time'."

Diana chuckled in response, and Bruce groaned, shaking his head.

"In all seriousness, though, help her navigate the database." Bruce told him. "I can't be much help from here."

Much to his disdain, Alfred had to leave him behind in that hospital. There would be plenty of security, along with the body guards Bruce had hired. It was enough to set his mind at ease.

When they got back to the house, Diana immediately went for Bruce's room to hunt down that flash drive.

When she opened the door, Diana was shocked to find his room completely ransacked.

His dresser was torn apart with clothes scattered everywhere. The bedcovers were crumpled up into a ball on the bed. The closet was completely ripped open.

The desk, however, was in the worst shape. It was snapped completely in half, and the drawers were practically smashed to splinters.

Frantically, Diana dug through the wreckage. But she only ended up confirming her fears.

The hard drive was missing.

"Alfred!"

Diana spun on her heel to hunt down the Butler, only to find him standing in the doorway.

"Do you think it was those thugs from before?"

"I don't want to jump t any conclusions," Diana stated. "But it's too much of a coincidence."

"Follow me." Alfred said, quickly gesturing out the door. He hurried down the stairs, and Diana followed suit.

He led her to the library, and trailed his fingers across a set of books on one of the shelves. He pulled one forward, activating a switch.

The bookshelf sank into the wall before disappearing into a gap and revealing a set of stairs.

Diana followed Alfred down the stairs, and was greeted by the large, open cave systems that resided below the manor.

At the ground level, there was a large set of computer screens, and a well-worn leather chair. It dawned on Diana that this was the first time she'd ever set foot in Bruce's self-proclaimed lair.

"Master Bruce installed a set of advanced security cameras in the event of a breach. Hopefully these will have caught the thieves."

He typed in a rather long password before tapping away at the computer screen to try and find the necessary program.

Soon, the computer came to life with a set of camera feeds. Alfred found the timecode for the previous hour, and isolated the camera posted at the end of the hallways outside of Bruce's room.

Just as Alfred had suspected, the two men from before came into view.

They came in from the window at the end of the hall, with the helmeted man at the lead. He led the Sniper down the hall, stopping at Bruce's door.

He tested the knob before realizing that it was locked, and then ultimately kicked the door down.The Sniper stood in the hallway, keeping watch while his accomplice tore the room apart.

And then, he turned his head.

He turned his head, catching sight of the camera. As he strolled closer to it, Diana suddenly felt her throat close over.

The man pulled out a silenced pistol and shot the camera, now rendering it useless.

"Go back." Diana said to Alfred. "I want to see the man's face."

Alfred complied, taking the footage back a couple frames.

The image was blurry, but Diana couldn't deny the eyes that stared back at her; piercing into her soul. The eyes held a look of hatred and malice.

"Is there a way we can enhance the image?" Diana asked.

"Actually, yes." Alfred replied, fiddling with the computer programs. "Just let me insert the footage into here, and-." He was cut off suddenly as the screen began to flicker before ultimately freezing. An eyebrow rose on his face as he attempted to fix it.

Then, the screen erupted into a bright blue wall with white text. Immediately Alfred began to panic.

"No, no, no, no! This isn't possible!" He hissed, frantically slamming his fingers on the keyboard. "Come on, you bloody piece of junk!"

Despite his best efforts, the computer had done the very thing he feared. It completely crashed.

Diana couldn't help but be shocked. "How... Is that even possible?!"

"It's not." Alfred growled. "Those bastards must be behind this. It's going to take me days to try and recover everything."

"Isn't there some sort of backup, or something?"

Alfred took a moment to try and recall, but then an idea came to him.

"Actually, yes." He said. "She won't have everything, but she's sure to have a backup of our security footage. She can enhance the footage, and give us what we need."

He jotted down the address for her before handing her the paper.

"Take one of the cars. Once we have that face, we'll find a way to hunt him down."

Diana nodded, gripping the paper between her fingers.

She found herself changing into more suitable clothes to got walking around in the daylight, unfortunately only leaving herseld with her bracers. However, she had come across a circular backpack in her travels that served as the perfect container for her shield and lasso.

She pulled her hair into a tight braid before making her way back downstairs and lookng through Bruce's collection of vehicles.

Out of the corner of her eye, a red motorcycle sat shining from a waxing. A small smirk formed on Diana's face as she took the helmet between her hands.

"I'll bring it back in one piece." Diana promised.

"Somehow, I doubt that," Alfred chuckled. "Safe travels, Miss Prince."

Diana reved the engine on the motorcyle as a response before taking off onto the open road. Without a word, she left Wayne Manor behind her.

It was time for her to meet with Oracle.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

When Diana had first heard the title "Oracle", she expected to find herself in some opulent building, possibly similar to that of her home on Themyscira.

She was surprised, however, to find herself standing outside the door of a floor level apartment with the name "B. Gordon" written on the mail box.

She knocked on the door, despite her surprise, hoping that the person behind it would have some answers.

The door opened, revealing the owner of the apartment to be rather beautiful, red haired woman seated in a wheelchair. Bright green eyes peered at Diana through a pair of reading glasses, and a smile played on her face.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked.

"I, uh..." Diana trailed off, unsure of what to say. "My name is Diana. I understand that the two of us have a mutual friend?"

The woman looked at her curiously, cocking he head to the side before giving her a quick once over.

"Diana... Oh!" She exlcaimed suddenly. "Oh, yeah! I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you. Come on in!"

The woman backed up before turning into the apartment, letting Diana follow suit.

The apartment reminded Diana of what a college dorm would look like, though much more clean. There were a couple pennants tacked to the wall with "Gotham University" printed across them in bright white letters. Photographs of the woman and a familiar face adorned the walls as well.

Jim Gordon. Commissioner of the Gotham City Police.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?" The woman asked, making her way into the kitchen before pausing. "Oh, wait, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. Barbara Gordon." She extended a hand, which Diana shook firmly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Barbara. I'm sorry to barge in like this, but I've run into a bit of trouble. Alfred said you could help me with it."

"It's no trouble." Barbara replied. "I, uh... I heard about Bruce. Is he doing ok?"

"He's recovering well." Diana said. "That's actually why I'm here. How much do you know about what happened?"

"Only what Dick and Alfred have told me." Barbara replied before pausing again. "Oh, right. Dick is a friend of Bruce's. He's away on a trip to Metropolis right now, so you probably won't get the chance to properly meet him. Anyways, I know what happened. They were saying that someone tried to take him out from the other building."

"Yes," Diana confirmed. "That is the shortened version of it. Alfred and I both believe that these people, or at least one of them, knows Bruce personally."

"Hmm... That's going to complicate things. But what are the leads we have so far?"

"I know for sure that one of them is holding a grudge against Bruce. He told me that Bruce has 'had this coming'. He wears this red helmet, and he knew where Bruce hid his hard drive with all of Gotham's criminal files. On top of that, he found a way to crash Bruce's computer."

Barbara seemed in awe that someone had managed to preform such a feat. But she nodded at Diana's words and began wheeling herself towards her bedroom.

Diana followed, watching as the woman opened up her closet doors and rolled inside.

What took on the appearance of a simple closet was actually a decent sized alcove packed with computer monitors and a large keyboard. It was similar to how Bruce had his computers set up in the cave, though much more compact.

Taped to the edge of one of the computer monitors was a photograph of four people standing outside of Wayne Manor. A younger boy, looking to be about 15, with dark hair and bright green eyes, was having his hair ruffled up by a taller young man. Barbara stood in the corner of the shot, clearly being the one taking the photo. In the background stood Bruce with the biggest, most prideful smile Diana had ever seen.

Barbara caught her gaze, and a smile of her own formed.

"I took that almost 10 years ago." She explained, typing away at her keyboard. "Things were a lot more simple back then. Back when it was just me, Dick, and Jason..." She paused before shaking her head with a sigh.

"Is Jason the youngest one?" Diana asked.

"Yeah. He took on the Robin persona when Dick decided to go his own way. And-." Barbara stopped herself, looking up at Diana. "I'm sorry, this must be confusing for you... How much has Bruce told you?"

"He's told me that he's taken on a couple 'students' in the past. Nothing much past that." Diana explained. "I know of the names Nightwing, Robin, and Batgirl. But I know nothing of the faces behind them."

"Well, here's the rundown. So far, there have been three people to take on the name Robin. Dick was the first, and when he got older he took on the name Nightwing. He and Bruce had a bit of a falling out, but they're patching up. Jason was the next one. Then, after him, Tim took up the mantel. After a while he decided to go on his own. Made his own team, even. Now it's just an empty suit, waiting to be filled again. As for Batgirl..." Barbara paused, her gaze falling into her lap for a moment. "She grew up. Realized just how cruel people can be. How cruel the world can be, even... But she got back up again, and kicked the world right in the teeth. Just in her own way."

Diana couldn't help the small, sympathetic smile that she had when Barbara explained the last bit of the story. She could tell that Barbara was all that she had said, and so much more.

"So the Batgirl became the Oracle." Diana concluded. "And what of Jason? You never mentioned him aside from name."

Barbara suddenly went quiet, her hands resting on the keys of the keyboard.

"He... Didn't get the chance to go on to do anything."

Diana understood the implications by Barbara's tone. When she reached a hand out in comfort, Barbara merely shook her head.

"Anyways, you needed me to find the backup footage from that camera?" She said, returning he attention to the computer.

Diana nodded and watched as the woman worked her magic. It was interesting to see just how quickly she could find what she needed.

Sure enough, she found the footage she was looking for.

Barbara replayed the footage, trying to get a good look at what had happened.

"So, what did you want me to do?" Barbara asked.

"I want to see if we could possibly identify the man with the sniper rifle on his back. It's obvious that the masked man can't be identified, but any lead I can get will send me in the right direction."

Barbara nodded, putting the footage into a video editing software.

She caught the exact frame that the Sniper locked eyes with the camera. As she worked to enhance the photo, Diana felt her heart sink.

No... It couldn't be. It was impossible!

The image staring back at her was the face of a man she had once held close to her. A man who's eyes used to be so full of light and hope.

But now...

Diana didn't realize just how much seeing his face again would phase her. She gripped the back of Barbara's chair, unintentionally digging her fingers into the upholstery.

Barbara printed off the still from the footage, handing it to Diana. "There you go. One creepy villain, fit for a mugshot." She said, trailing off when she saw just how still the Amazon had become. "Diana?"

Diana shook her head, taking the photo from her. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe it was a descendant of his? Or, even just someone that looked like him.

Either way, Diana knew that she had I find a way to confront this man.

"Is there a way you could figure out his name?" She asked Barbara.

"I can run a facial recognition scan against Gotham's registered criminals. I can even go a bit farther and pull from the FBI's Most Wanted list, but that will take some time."

"How long?"

"About a day. Maybe two, if I run into too many firewalls. If everything runs smoothly, I should have it done by tomorrow morning. It really depends."

"Keep me posted, then." Diana said, quickly jotting down her phone number on a sticky note and handing it to Barbara. "I'll try and pick up some more leads in the meantime."

With that, Diana folded up the photograph she'd been given and tucked it away in her jacket pocket.

She made her way back out to her motorcycle, not missing a single beat as she started it up and took to the road.

It was a lot to take in.

The idea that he was somehow alive after all this time was impossible. Even if by some miracle he survived the explosion, he would've died a long time ago like Charlie and the others.

The idea that this man could be a descendant of his was still up in the air. The resemblance was there, but...

Diana just didn't know what to make of all of this.

As she became lost in her thoughts, she made sure to take the first on ramp to get into the freeway.

" _Maybe Bruce has an idea_ ," Diana thought to herself, noting that the hospital was only a couple of exits away. It wouldn't hurt to stop in and check on him.

As she continued her ride, Diana suddenly noticed a group of motorcyclists coming up along both sides of her. At first, she didn't think much of it. But then, she noticed that they were forming a ring around her and closing in tightly.

Diana narrowed her eyes, trying to think of what she could do to get out of this situation.

There was one other car ahead of her. It wasn't the best idea, but anything was better than being sandwiched by group that clearly wanted to cause her harm.

She sped up just enough to catch up with the car. And then, with all of her strength, she launched herself from the bike.

She landed on the roof of the car, surprising even herself by the fact that she didn't damage it. She could hear the shouts of the occupants from inside the vehicle, clearly startled by the sounds of her landing.

Before she could issue and apology, she looked back to see one of the men reaching for a gun.

Diana's eyes widened, and she quickly got down as the man opened fire.

The car she was standing on skidded to a stop, and Diana found herself rolling across the top of it and landing on the pavement.

Inside the car, she could see a father frantically grabbing for his child in the back seat.

Without hesitation, Diana unzipped her backpack and hooked her shield around her arm. She let the bag drop to the ground and dashed towards the family in need.

Forgetting to hold back her strength, she ripped the car door off of it's hinges, giving the father enough time to grab for his daughter and make a run for it.

A rain of gunfire came down on Diana's shield as she covered the family. She rushed them along, trying to get them to safety. Traffic had become absolute chaos as others began feeling their vehicles for safety.

"Go with them!" Diana ordered the father. "Get yourselves to safety. Call someone to come get you."

"Thank you, Miss." The father gasped, nearly on the brink of tears as he clutched his daughter to his chest. "Thank you so much!"

Diana nodded, noting the awestruck face of the little girl in his arms.

"Daddy... That's Wonder Woman!" The little girl exclaimed.

Before Diana could respond, there was another barrage of gunfire, and both her and the father knew it was time to go.

The father rushed forte nearest offramp, following the crowd of people that were fleeing.

Turning on her heel, Diana kept a tight hold on her shield and rushed towards the group of men that were attacking her.

There were ten of them, all dressed in the same black combat armor that the two men from the previous night had worn. Each of them had some form of assault weapon, and had their faces masked.

It would be a bit of a struggle, but Diana knew she could take them on.

She reached for her lasso clasped on one of her belt loops, and let it unfurl with a loud cracking noise.

She gave the men a look that said one thing.

'Come and get me'.

The men opened fire again, leading to Diana lifting up her shield I defense. The bullets ricocheted off of her shield, embedding themselves into the abandoned cars.

Finally, Diana had had enough.

She took one glace over her shield, trying to get a good look at whoever was closest.

When she finally found her target, she whipped her lasso out and watched as it latched around his arm.

The man dropped his gun, and with a sharp tug he went flying towards Diana.

She immediately swiped at him with her shield, bashing him into the concrete median beside her and rending him unconscious.

She wanted to make sure at least one of them remained coherent enough for interrogation. But this group had intended to harm innocents. Justice had to be served.

She continued to take out the remaining men, using her lasso to close the distance between her and them, and then smacking into them with either her shield or a well placed punch.

The fight was far from easy, but she held her own.

Just as she had planned, there was one left to get her answers from.

He attempted to crawl back to his feet, but once again he found himself in the snare of Diana's lasso.

He was dragged towards her, and witnessed a look of anger that rivalled anything he'd seen from his superiors.

Diana reached down, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him to his feet.

"Who are you?" She hissed. "Why are you trying to kill me?"

The man attempted to remain silent, but the glow from the lasso and the burning pain that dug into his leg told him that he had no choice.

"I... I was sent to track you down." The man grunted out, fighting against the lasso's compulsion. "My... My boss wanted you taken out. He wants all of the 'Metahumans' that have been popping up to be taken care of."

"Who?" Diana snapped. "Who is your boss? Who are you working for?!"

"We're a part of the League of Assassin's!" The man confessed. "Our leader is Ra's al Ghul. He sends us out when he feels like people are going to become a problem. If they're a problem, we take them out. That's all I know, I swear!"

"And what about the other two?" Diana asked. "The assassin sent to kill Bruce Wayne, and the red hooded man? Are they a part of this 'League of Assassin's'?"

"Yes... They're indebted to Ra's. He holds it over their heads; makes them do his dirty work. They're his top assassins."

"And who are they?"

"The boys call the sniper Zeitgeist. It's German. They say that's where Ra's picked him up. And the other one calls himself Red Hood."

"I need names. Not code names"

"I... I can't..." The lasso's hold tightened around him. The pain was unbearable.

And then, just when he couldn't take it anymore, the sound of a gunshot met Diana's ears.

Her ears rung for a moment, and blood splattered across her face. She dropped the now dead man to the ground, turning to face the man who had murdered him.

Standing before her was the Sniper. The man known as the Zeitgeist.

He was holding a pistol in his hand, directing it now at Diana.

"I don't know who you are," Diana said, gripping her shield tightly. "But you will answer for what you did to my friend."

The Sniper remained silent, firing off his gun again. Diana brought up her arm to deflect the bullet with her bracelet, watching as it embedded itself in the Sniper's arm.

With a momentary distraction, Diana brought up her shield and rushed at the man.

She collided into him, sending him flying into the median. The chance of him falling over the side of the ramp was unavoidable. Diana had to act fast.

She grabbed a hold of him, pinning his arms to the side and using her shield to cusion their fall as the toppled into the street below.

The Sniper was dazed for a moment, giving Diana the opportunity to land an punch square into his jaw.

Without a moment's hesitation, Diana slipped her fingers into his facemask.

"No more games," She hissed. "Now let's see who you really are."

She got a good grip, only to suddenly have a fist strike into her gut and send her tumbling off of the man.

He took this opportunity to regain his footing, but it was already too late.

His face mask clattered to the ground, and Diana rolled over to look up at the man that had been evading her.

All of a sudden, everything seemed to freeze. Diana felt as if her heart had stopped, and her breath caught in her throat as she finally saw the man with her own two eyes. Not behind the guise of a mask. Not through a blurry video camera.

Now he was standing before her, in flesh and blood.

"Steve?"

 _A/N: So, yeah, I'll bet none of you saw that coming. (Obvious sarcasm is obvious. ;) ) I do want to apologize for this update taking a little bit longer. My wifi is down at my house at the moment, so a lot of this writing was in chunks. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed, and I hope you'll tune into the next chapter where more of this big mystery unfolds! Until then, I want to thank you all for your reviews and continuous support!_


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Bruce hardly enjoyed his time at the hospital.

It wasn't really a pleasant stay. Hospital beds were hardly the epitome of comfort. The food sucked, but at the very least he got some peace and quiet.

The doctor had kept his word on keeping the press away from the room. He was positive that handling all of those questions would cause more stress. More stress meant he would have to stay in the hospital longer, and Bruce was not too keen on that idea.

Today, he found himself laying back in that ever-lumpy bed and flipping through the television channels. He landed on the news, pausing his search when he saw the story that was being broadcast. Some sort of terrorist attack near Exit 43. The reporter stated that there were at least 15 armed men halting traffic and firing on civilians. There was also a mention of one good Samaritan helping people get out of their cars and off of the freeway. A woman armed with a shield.

Bruce's eyes widened, and he quickly sat up. A burst of pain shot up his chest, forcing him back down into the bed with a grunt. He wasn't going anywhere. Not until this wound healed properly.

Regardless, he needed to get a phone. He needed to call Alfred and find out what was going on.

He reached for the call button to attempt to get a hold of his nurse, only to hear some noises coming from outside his room. There was the sound of people rushing down the halls. A voice came on the intercom, warning all available staff members of "External Triage".

Bruce knew what that meant. They were preparing for the rush of injured and casualties from the attack on the freeway.

But then, he heard another noise. The sounds of bodies hitting the linoleum floor. The doorknob to his room jiggled, and he watched in shock as some stranger entered his room.

He stood at a little over six feet tall, carrying himself like a soldier would. He wore black, save for a worn brown leather jacket. His most defining feature, however, was what he had tucked under his arm.

A red helmet.

Just like Diana had said.

Bruce immediately moved for the call button, and the man strolled over to the window without a word. Frantically, Bruce began jabbing his finger into the remote, praying that someone would come fast.

"I wouldn't bother." The man sighed, his voice as rough as he jacket looked. "They've got a whole mess of bodies to take care of down in the E.R... Besides, I was able to take down your 'security' without a problem. You think a couple of dudes in bed sheets are going to take me out?"

"Who are you?" Bruce snapped. "What do you want?"

He saw the mans shoulders sag. Almost as if he was saddened by Bruce's words. A sigh left his lips, and he tossed his helmet into a nearby chair.

"Seriously?" He chuckled. "You really don't know? World's greatest detective can't even figure out who's standing in th room with him? You lost your touch, Bruce."

Bruce's eyes narrowed as he stared the man down, trying to recognize him. His hair was black, minus a shock of white that had a habit of falling into his eyes. He'd brushed the hairs away a couple times as he took in his reflection in the window.

His eyes were green; a dull green that looked like they'd seen years of battle. Maybe this man really was a soldier. But still, Bruce couldn't put a finger on it.

"All I see is someone who is not welcome in here. Get out!"

The man clenched his fist, turning on his heel.

"I'm not welcome here? That's rich coming from you!" He retorted. "You're the one who shouldn't be here. You should be 6 feet under for the shit you've done!"

"Is that why you're here then?" Bruce countered. "To finish the job? Fantastic job you're doing there. You're supposed to be an assassin, right?"

It only seemed to make the man angrier. "Oh, believe me, I am here to finish the job." He snarled. "I just wanted you to see this face one last time... I wanted to see this face, and I wanted you to explain this!"

He pulled a stack of papers from his jacket, slamming it onto the side table with a force that even made Bruce jump. Glancing over it, Bruce could see a familiar mugshot grinning back at him.

The Joker.

He was holding the documents Bruce had on his hard drive about The Joker.

"Explain to me why this lowlife piece of trash is still fucking alive!" The man hissed. "Explain to me how, after everything he's done, he's still breathing!"

Bruce looked up at the man, seeing almost a look of hurt cross his face. His breathing was ragged, and Bruce could see his hands shaking.

"After what he did to Barbara... After what he did to me... How could you let him live?"

Bruce's eyes widened. In his mind, the man's face had shifted to that of a young boy. A boy who's bright green eyes had been full of determination. A boy that sported black eyes and missing baby teeth like they were trophies from the fights he got into.

A boy that had been like a son to him; like a brother to Dick and Barbara.

A boy that had died so long ago.

Finally, there he was, staring at Bruce once again.

"Jason?"

A small, almost sad smile spread across the man's face as he confirmed Bruce's theory.

"Well... Looks like I wasn't forgotten after all."

"I could never forget you!" Bruce protested. "But, just... How? How are you alive?"

The softened features of his face suddenly hardened. All emotion left him as he transformed from the son Bruce had known and loved, to a cold, ruthless killed.

"You shouldn't worry about that." He said sternly, straightening himself out again. "All that matters is that I'm here now, and I'm going to start cleaning up this city."

His hand slipped to his belt, pulling out a pistol and brandishing it.

"Starting with you."

Bruce stared down the barrel of the gun. It wasn't the first time in his life that he had. But what made matters worse, was the man holding the gun. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his face as he tried to think of what to do.

"Killing me won't make up for what happened, Jason." Bruce said, trying to negotiate. "Believe me... Not a day goes by where I don't wish it was me that had died. Every night since then, I've seen your face. I've replayed that night over and over again in my head, and I wished that I had done better. I wished that I had killed him, Jason. He doesn't deserve to live; you're right. But you know as well as I do that it's not our place to make that kind of decision. You know why that 'no kill' rule exists. Killing him... It makes us just as bad as the rest of them."

"Bullshit!" Jason growled. "If it had been you, I would've gone to Hell and back to make that clown suffer! If it had been you, nothing would've stopped me from making sure that he never hurt anyone ever again! And the fucked up thing is, you let him! I've read the files, Bruce... You let him paralyze Barbara and leave her for dead. You let him nearly kill Commissioner Gordon. You let him get away with murder both literally and figuratively. After all that, I would've thought that I would've been the last straw!"

His voice cracked. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. Bruce felt like he was getting to him, but he couldn't deny the guilt he felt.

"Jason... I'm sorry."

It was all he could say. What else could he do? He could never dissuade Jason from anything in the past. Why would it start now?

"You used to tell me that sometimes it wasn't enough to be sorry... Right now," Jason cocked the slide on his pistol, pressing the gun to Bruce's temple. "This is one of those times."

Bruce had been hoping that Jason would get close. This was a personal grudge, it made sense to get up close and personal with his victim. He had his arm extended, and Bruce took that opportunity it gave him.

He slammed his fist into Jason's elbow, the blow forcing the gun to go off to the left. The shock made Jason prematurely pull the trigger, firing off a shot relatively close to Bruce's ear.

The gunfire left a ringing in his ears he was all too familiar with. Still, he pressed on, shoving Jason up against the wall.

A smirk spread across Jason's face. He spoke, but the ringing made it impossible for Bruce to hear. He could make out the words by his lips, however.

"You haven't lost your touch after all."

Jason stomped down on Bruce's exposed foot, allowing him an open opportunity to slam his knee into Bruce's gut.

The pain was unbearable. Bruce felt like his internal organs had ruptured, though he knew he would be dead if that were the case.

He dropped to the floor, gingerly pressing his hand to the injury and freezing when he saw blood. His stitches has been ripped open.

Jason towered over him, his gun back at the ready. Bruce was practically gasping for air, trying to think of what to do.

There was a medicine cabinet down the hall where they kept all of the sedatives and such. If he could get there fast enough he could slow Jason down for a while.

It was just a matter of getting an I.D.

As Jason approached again, Bruce used some of his remaining strength to deliver a sweeping kick to Jason's legs, effectively dropping him to the ground.

Bruce then scrambled to his feet, rushing out the door of the room and slamming it shut behind him.

The commotion had gained the attention of a nurse at the front desk, rising to her feet in concern.

"Sir, is there a problem?" She asked.

The ringing in Bruce's ears had died down, and he was thankful for that. But he needed to get out of here.

Suddenly, the door behind him bursted open, and the sounds of gunfire filled the room.

The nurse shrieked in fear, and Bruce immediately jumped into action. He closed the distance between himself and the nurse, practically tackling her and pulling her under the desk for cover. The sound of gunfire echoed throughout the room, and over the intercom they could hear a voice declaring a "Code Black".

The code for someone armed with a gun. They were going to get law enforcement involved.

It wouldn't be enough. Batman evaded the police like it was a hobby, he could only imagine what it would be like with the Red Hood.

The nurse shook in Bruce's arms, nearly on the verge of sobbing. Her fingers dug into his hospital gown, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"Hey, hey, it's going to be ok." Bruce spoke to her softly, trying to both calm her, and keep their cover secret.

He glanced down at her name tag in an attempt to connect with her.

"Talia, right?" He asked her. She nodded. "Ok... If you want to get out of here, Talia, I need you to help me."

She didn't speak, she just kept nodding. She looked like she was slipping into shock, but Bruce was attempting to keep that from happening.

"I need you to get me to some sort of sedative to use on him until the police get here." He told her. "And, if possible, I need a change of clothes."

"You're... You're bleeding..." She said softly.

Bruce glanced down, seeing that the blood had seeped through his hospital gown. He shook his head dismissively.

"Don't worry about it. Just worry about yourself, and the other patients."

She hesitated, but she nodded again.

"Ok... I can get you what you need."

"And maybe some morphine. Just enough to where you won't get in trouble."

"Please," She scoffed. "After this, I might just get promoted."

Bruce couldn't help but give a small smile at that before peeking out from behind the desk.

Jason was standing in the hallway, scanning with his eyes. It was obvious that he was trying to find Bruce... But he was hesitating.

Talia took this opportunity to rush down the hallway parallel to him, making her way toward the cabinet.

Bruce took this opportunity to rise to his feet, using the front desk as his support. Jason's gaze met his... And for a moment, it looked like something had changed.

The look of anger on his face melted away to a hybrid look of concern and confusion.

"Bruce?" He asked, taking a half step back. His eyes darted around the room as he tried to figure something out.

"Bruce... What's happening?" He asked. "I... Where am I?"

An eyebrow rose on Bruce's face, and he brought up his hands to show he meant no harm.

Maybe Jason hadn't been acting on his own this whole time.

"Jason, it's me... You're in Saint Joan's Hospital. You... You haven't been acting like yourself."

Jason shook his head before pressing a hand to his temple. He looked to be in pain.

Whatever was wrong with him seemed to be clearing up; for a moment, the old Jason seemed to be showing through.

Before much else could be said, Bruce caught sight of Talia behind Jason. Armed with the sedative Bruce had asked for, she jabbed the needle into his neck.

He spun around, stumbling as he tried to regain his bearings. Talia took a step back, and he collapsed to the floor.

The moment he did, Bruce stumbled as well. He gripped the edge of the counter, trying to keep himself upright.

Talia rushed to his side, setting a bundle of clothes onto the counter.

"Let me redo the stitches." She said. "You're going to bleed out."

"There's no time." Bruce said, grabbing for the sweatpants and hoodie the nurse had set onto the counter. "Just bandage me up as good as you can. I need to go help my friend."

"What about him?" She asked, looking back at Jason.

"How much did you give him?"

"Enough to keep him out for a while." She replied. "The police can deal with him."

As much as Bruce hated to leave Jason to the mercy of the GCPD, he knew that was probably the safest place Jason could be. If it boiled down to it, he could pay off the bail and figure out what was going on on his own terms.

"Keep an eye on him until they come." Bruce said, straightening up as much as he could once his abdomen was wrapped up. He slipped into the clothes Talia had found for him, and shrugged on the hoodie.

"Hey, uh... Thank you." She told him. "Really, I... I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't been here."

"I'm sure you would've managed without me." Bruce said with a smile. If you ever need me to swing by again, give me a call?"

She looked over him once with a smirk on her face before grabbing for one of the business cards off the counter. She jotted down a set of numbers and handed the card to him.

"Tell you what: how about you call me." She said, slipping the card into his hoodie pocket. "Something tells me you'll need it, Mr. Wayne."

She gave him a wink, and glanced down the hall at the sound of voices.

"Take the stairs." She said, ushering him towards the door. "I'll say one of your guards knocked him out. The other one escorted you to safety."

Bruce couldn't thank her enough.

Without another word, he made his way down the stairs and back into the world. The hospital smell was instantly replaced with the familiar, smoggy scent of the place he called home.

Now was not the time to bask in his freedom, however.

Now, he had to get to Diana.

*

"Steve?"

The name hung in the air, filling the space between the two of them. The woman stared down at him in a sense of shock, her hand shaking mere inches away from his face.

The sun was behind her, creating an almost angelic glow about her. Something about it seemed familiar, right down to her tightly braided hair. So much so that it made his head hurt.

"Steve... It's you..." She whispered, her fingers grazing his jawline. "It's really you?"

He snapped his head back in an attempt to retreat from her touch, shoving her off of him almost effortlessly.

"Who the hell is Steve?" He hissed, unsure of why the woman was calling him that. He had no name. Only the codename they'd given him in the League. It had been like that for as long as he could remember. He didn't need a name. Names carried baggage. Useless memories.

"Steve... It's me!" The woman said, regaining her footing. "It's Diana. Don't you remember?"

She sounded almost saddened by her words, though he was unsure why. She was mistaken; he wasn't this "Steve" she spoke of.

He was the Zeitgeist. The ghost from another time; a top assassin in the League. Nothing else.

But the way she looked at him bothered him. She was looking at him like he were a long lost friend...

Or even a lover.

Yes. That was love he saw in here eyes. He'd seen it another time when Ra's had him take out a rival once. The rival's wife had witnessed the whole thing, and he ultimately had to put a bullet in her head as well. He couldn't leave witnesses.

But that look of love... The look that slowly shifted into a look that communicated loss and sorrow. That was what was on her face.

Suddenly, he felt heat. A white-hot pain in his head. Images of fire came to his mind... And a woman screaming.

No. These weren't real. They were just false memories put into his head; memories that Ra's had warned him about. The only way to stop them was to kill the Bat and the woman.

And the woman was staring right at him.

Without another word, he brought up his gun and fired off a round.

The woman deflected the bullet, just like he knew she would. He closed the distance between them with a couple strides. It became obvious that bullets wouldn't do anything. It had to be a bit more personal.

He pulled a knife from a sheath strapped to his arm, attempting to slash at her. She brought up her shield in time to stop him. It became clear that he would have to find a way to disarm her.

While he was close enough to her, he noticed that she was hesitating. She could've easily swatted him away with that shield, but she didn't.

She didn't want to fight him.

He saw this as an advantage. Hooking his leg around her's, he sent her to the ground in an instant.

Before she could bring that shield up to protect herself anymore, he brought his foot down on it, pinning it to the ground.

The woman cried out in pain, and he watched as her shoulder dislocated. Had this been any other time, he would've been content. But here...

Here, he felt regret.

"Steve, stop!" She cried, tears rolling down her face. "Please, Steve, it's me! It's Diana! You don't have to fight me; I'm not you're enemy"

"Stop calling me that!" He growled, gripping the knife tighter.

That name... That damn name.

Why did it make his head pound? Why did seeing her in pain bring him such discomfort?

Why couldn't he kill her?

His hand shook, and he didn't even realize at first that he had dropped the knife.

Diana didn't grab for it. Instead she could only stare as the man fought internally with something she couldn't even begin to understand.

He took a step back, freeing her shield arm from his boot. His hands shook as he grabbed for his head, clearly in pain.

"Steve..." She spoke softly, rising to her feet and gently attempting to approach him. His head whipped up at her in shock, his face resembling that of a frightened, caged animal.

Diana gently took a hold of his hands, bringing them down from his face. Oddly enough, he let her. But she wasn't about to question it.

She cupped his face in her hands, letting her fingers trace along the outline of it. Everything was as she remembered. His cheekbones, his jawline, the prickly stubble across his cheeks. She could hardly believe that it was his face she was touching again. But it was.

"Steve, it's alright." She told him. "It's ok. I'm going to help you. Whatever is wrong, we'll fix it together. Just come back to me... Please?"

He looked up at her; and for a moment, Diana was sure that she had gotten through to him.

But then, his gaze shifted behind her, and that look quickly changed.

His face had become an embodiment of rage itself.

Diana turned, and saw what had angered him so.

Bruce stood in the alleyway behind them, barely standing on his own two feet. Blood was soaking through his clothes, and he looked as white as a ghost.

Before Diana could say anything, Steve went running towards Bruce, prepared to finish what he'd started.

But then, another gunshot went off.

It was a rifle. An older one by the sounds of it. The bullet wizzed by Bruce and Steve, making Steve stop dead in his tracks.

The bullets kept coming, warding Steve off from killing his prey. Ultimately, he had to retreat.

Diana was faced with a dilemma at first. Pursue Steve, or help Bruce. But one look at Bruce made her rethink all of that.

He was dying, and Diana wasn't about to let that happen.

She rushed to his side, catching him just as he'd crumpled to the ground.

"Bruce, stay with me." She said, grabbing a hold of him. "What happened?"

"Came to the Hospital... Busted open my stitches." He mumbled. "Jason... Jason..."

He looked about to pass out right then and there. Diana shook him, attempting to keep him talking.

"Come on, keep it up." She said frantically. "What about Jason?"

"Red... Hood."

He wasn't making sense. But she knew she had to get him back to the hospital.

No, wait, not the hospital. If he was attacked there, they had to try someplace else. These assassins knew how to get into Wayne Manor. Any other hospital would be swarmed with reporters the minute his name was mentioned. There had to be someplace else they could go.

"Diana..." A voice that belonged neither to Bruce nor Steve spoke behind her. Clutching Bruce to her chest, she craned her neck to try and see who it was that was summoning her.

The face she saw almost made her want to burst into tears all over again.

Slinging his rifle across his back, dressed in modern day attire, save for a stitched suade jacket, was her old friend.

The man she'd come to know as Chief.

Diana was speechless. He approached her grabbing for Bruce and hoisting him over his shoulder.

"Napi..." She said, saying his name for the first time in decades. "How-?"

"I can explain later." He said, his voice as kind as ever. "Right now, we need to get him some help. I can patch him up in my home. But we need to go."

"You drove Steve off..." She stated, trying to wrap her head around all of this. But, as Chief had said, there wasn't enough time.

So she did as he'd wanted. She followed him back to his home. They needed to get off the streets anyways before the police showed up.

But Diana knew that when Bruce woke up, she would need answers.

A lot of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 **A/N: First off, I want to apologize to everyone for delaying this fic for so long. I ran into a severe case of writer's block, among a bunch of other personal stuff I don't want to bother you guys with. But, I'm back into the swing of things, and I plan on seeing this fic through to the end.** **So, without further ado, I give you Chapter 6 of "From Shadows, I Come"!**

Diana wasn't really sure what to expect from Chief's home. She found the idea of him settling down anywhere more than a little mind-boggling. But, here he was, leading her to the more suburban areas on the outskirts of Gotham City.

It was your typical, white picket fence neighborhood. Each house looked almost identical, save for the cars that resided in their driveways. Gardens and rosebushes were groomed to near perfection, and children would play in the streets without a care.

Diana had been expecting something a bit more secluded from her friend, though the idea of him hiding in plain sight never really crossed her mind. She was surprised, to say the least, that no one commented as he walked by with an unconscious Bruce tossed over his shoulders.

"They can't see us right now," Chief explained, almost as if reading her mind. "It's one of my... Many gifts."

"That you have yet to explain," Diana added. She was raised in a world of gods and monsters. She was never one to question the strange happenings that occurred around her. But the fact that it was happening around a friend, whom she thought to be dead all of these years, made things different.

"I know, I know. But let's get him looked over first." He said in reference to Bruce.

When that finally reached the house, it was just like all of the others. A well-kept garden, a stone walkway, and a house painted in some sort of pastel color that had begun to fade.

It was Chief's own little paradise away from the corruption of the city.

He opened the door, and Diana was greeted with the familiar scent of earth and pine. The house was warm, and she almost felt as if it was inviting her in.

Chief carried Bruce into the house, laying him gently on the couch before making his way into the kitchen.

Diana shut the door behind her, allowing her eyes to drift along the walls. Newspaper clippings resided in frames, almost untouched by time. Just eying some of the headlines brought Diana memories of the war that had started everything; the war that had forged her into who she was today.

"You kept all of these?" Diana asked.

"Just the major ones. That's more or less what I do. Travel the world, collect things from the time I'm needed there..." He trailed off, riffling through a familiar looking medicine bag.

He began working on Bruce's injuries, concocting some sort of salve and gently coating the wounds with it. Diana couldn't help but watch in fascination, hoping to gain some sort of idea of what he was doing.

He soaked some of the bandages in a liquid before wrapping them around Bruce's torso. He then rolled the injured man onto his side, allowing him to breathe easier.

"Now, let's take a look at your shoulder." Chief offered to Diana.

"My shoulder is fine." She retorted. "Napi, please, I just-"

With a good shove, he popped her shoulder into place again. She gave a sharp hiss, flexing her hand before rolling her shoulder a bit. Just as good as before.

"So, you want to know how I'm here, correct?"

Diana nodded, hoping that this would finally be it.

"How much do you know of my people? The Blackfoot, I mean." He asked, taking a seat in the chair across from her.

"Very little, I must confess." Diana sighed. "I've been attempting to keep up with the Modern era, as well as trying to learn from the past. So many cultures..." She trailed off before shaking her head. "I only recall what you've told me."

"Well, like any other culture, my tribe carries a lot of stories with them. Some are even similar to the stories you may have heard as a child. Like Greek and Norse mythology, the Blackfoot believe in Demigods. One of them has been known to go by the title of 'Old Man'. He is a creator; a jokester at times. But he is known to help those that need it. He is a teacher, and will come to the aid of those that need it. He is known by many other names, but the one he goes by now is-."

"Chief..." Diana concluded, quickly rising to her feet. "Napi. The Demigod's name is Napi, isn't it? That's why you're still alive! You're a Demigod. You're like-"

'Like me.' She realized to herself.

His gaze fell to his hands in his lap before he ultimately rose to his feet.

"I have some tea ready if you would like some." He offered. "You and your friend are more than welcome to stay here tonight to rest."

"Do you know why Steve is alive?" Diana asked, completely ignoring Chief's offers. "Do you know why he is acting this way?"

"Unfortunately, I don't." He replied. "But we can discuss all that in the morning. Please get some rest, Diana. I have a spare room you can take up, and I will insure that your friend's bandages are changed frequently. He'll be awake in the morning."

Diana wasn't too pleased. She wanted answers, and even now they were being delayed.

But she knew those answers wouldn't come; not this soon anyways. She resigned herself to this realization and took Chief's offer for room and board for the night.

When she finally allowed herself to get into bed, all she could think about was Steve. She couldn't get out her head how confused and frightened he'd looked. He reminded her of a wounded animal, the way he shrank back from her.

Someone had hurt him; twisted him into some sort of ruthless killer. The very thought made Diana's stomach twist.

She fumbled through her pocket, pulling out an old watch and tracing over the face with her fingers. Though it had stopped ticking long ago, she couldn't find it in her heart to fix it. It had stopped when Steve had died… or rather, supposedly died. Diana really didn't know what to make of it anymore.

Still, she held the old timepiece to her heart. Silently, she wished that she could see him again. She wanted to feel his hand in hers; his lips on her skin. Her heart ached at the thought of having him back, knowing that something horrible had been done to him.

"I'll bring you back…" She whispered into the darkness, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'll bring you back… And I'll make whoever hurt you pay."

It was this promise that remained in her mind, even as she slept.

This Ra's al Ghul had crossed the wrong Amazon; and he was going to learn that the hard way.

* * *

Even unconscious, Jason Todd found no peace.

His dreams were filled with nothing but fire. His skin was burning. He couldn't breathe. Everything around him was on fire.

Even when he'd open his eyes again for the first time, everything burned. The Lazarus pit only seemed to amplify how his last moments of life had felt.

When Jason finally opened his eyes, he was drenched in sweat. He gasped, sitting up in his bed.

He was back at the motel room. The one Ra's had arranged for him and Steve.

"You were mumbling again."

Jason looked across the room to see Steve cleaning his guns, not even bothering to lift his head and look at him.

"You were having nightmares again, weren't you?" Steve asked, sounding as bored and uninterested as ever.

"Not a big deal." Jason muttered.

"It is if Ra's finds out." Steve countered. "He's going to punish you again."

"Punishment" was Ra's sicking his fighters on whomever disobeyed him. It would end up with the punished victim either dying, or on the verge of death. Needless to say, it was something Jason had encountered a lot.

"Well, he won't." Jason snapped, pulling himself out of bed. "Not unless you run your mouth."

Steve shrugged, continuing his cleaning.

"Besides, I don't see you with Wonder Woman's head. You think Ra's is going to be happy knowing you failed too?"

Steve paused, setting his gun down on the table and turning towards Jason.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Jason mumbled, stepping into the bathroom to wash his face.

Silence had settled over the room. The two men soon found themselves lost in their mundane tasks.

It was after a good five minute, Steve finally broke the silence.

"She…. She knows me."

"Huh?" Jason asked, poking his head out the bathroom door.

"She knows me, somehow. She looked at me like she knew me… She reached out to me." His hands balled into fists at his sides. Jason could see then and there how much pain he was in.

"She touched my face, and I've felt it before. I know her, Jason. Somehow, I know her."

"Hey," Jason crossed into the room, taking a seat beside his companion. "Hey, it's ok. We both slipped up today." He said. "We'll get them next time. Once we're done here we can skip town and leave Ra's in the dust. Just like we talked about."

"She called me Steve…. I know that's not my name. But I feel, deep down, that it is."

Jason could see the conflict his friend was facing. He was fighting the truth he'd come to know, and the harsh reality of things. In truth, Jason had felt it too. It was like their world was threatening to crash down around them if they kept pushing.

"Don't worry about that. It doesn't matter what they said. We need to focus on finishing this job." Jason said again.

"But…. What if the job is wrong? What if we've been lied to, Jason? What if-?"

Jason harshly shushed him, quickly glancing at the motel room door. They were alone, but he had to be sure.

"You can't be talking like that. Like you said, Ra's will have our asses if he heard us. The only way that we can get out of this is if we finish this job. We wipe out the Metahumans, and then we're home free." He paused, seeing that Steve wasn't so convinced.

"Hey… I know what you're going through." Jason said quietly. "I've…. Been feeling it too. But we're so close. We've just got to-."

"I hope I'm not interrupting something, boys?"

Jason's head snapped around, seeing a man standing in the doorway to their room. Though the man looked to be fairly young, the presence he carried was older than anyone could imagine.

Dressed rather formally in a suit with his graying hair slicked back was Ra's al Ghul.

Jason and Steve both rose to their feet, standing at attention.

There was an agonizing silence that settled over the room. Ra's eyed the two up and down before strolling towards the room's fridge and procuring a bottle of wine.

"I trust that there's a reason the two of you haven't succeeded in your mission?" He said, not even to bother looking at them as he poured himself a glass.

Neither said a word. They both knew that excuses would do them no good. It was best to just wait it out and accept whatever fate Ra's had in store for them.

"No? Hmph. A pity." He sighed, taking a sip off of the glass and making his way towards the couch. He propped up a walking stick against the arm of the couch before taking a seat.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have the both of you killed right here."

Steve's eyes widened in fear, but Jason immediately came in to defend the two of them.

"There were a few setbacks," Jason said, hoping to spare them of his employer's wrath. "But we won't let them happen again. If you would just give us-."

"Setbacks, you say?" Ra's interrupted him. "That's interesting you say that. Would one of those setbacks be you having second thoughts?"

"What? No!" Jason retorted, wondering where that had come from.

But then, he remembered.

Back at the hospital, when he'd snapped out of…. Some sort of trance? He couldn't recall it fully. Even now his head pounded as he tried to think.

"An informant of mine tells me otherwise." Ra's replied smoothly. "She says that you hesitated when you faced the Bat. Said that you were letting whatever lies he spread get to you."

"That's ridiculous!" Jason spat. "I don't know who your informant is, but she's a damn liar!"

"Watch your tone with me, boy!" Ra's hissed, making Jason flinch back for a moment. "Remember who it was that pulled you back from the clutches of death when your so called _father_ gave up on you. Remember how he led you to your death. And don't you dare ever call my daughter a liar."

Daughter?

The nurse from the hospital… That's who his informant was.

"You… You sent your daughter?" Jason stammered.

"Did you really think I would trust the two of you with a mission like this by yourselves? You are formidable, yes; but you clearly still lack the proper discipline. Especially if you allow yourself to be so easily swayed by the likes of Bruce Wayne."

"Yeah, well, maybe he's not the one that's been 'swaying' me." Jason snapped.

He didn't know why he said it. But the moment he did, it was like the final piece had been put into the puzzle.

Everything had come back to him within an instant, and he knew just the type of people he was working for now.

Before he could even think of doing anything else, he was met with the solid metal ball on Ra's cane smacking into his face.

He stumbled to the ground, suddenly feeling a foot slam into his stomach. He almost couldn't breathe.

"How dare you!" Ra's hissed, continuously kicking him and beating him with his cane. "How dare you slander me like that! How dare you spit in the face of this organization! How dare you insult my kindness to you!"

Ever hit reminded Jason of that night. The night he'd died. The night that the Joker had mercilessly beat into him and left him for dead.

No. Not here. Not this time.

Delivering a sharp kick of his own, Jason swept the legs out from under Ra's. He momentarily gained the upper hand against him, kicking away the cane and attempting to get as far away from him as possible.

He had to get out of here. He had to run.

He shared one look with Steve, whom had just stood there and watched as this all unfolded. Steve's eyes darted from him to the man on the floor. Within an instant, Steve went for one of his guns and took aim at Jason.

Jason bolted for the window, smashing into the glass and barreling outside. Steve continued to fire on him as he ran for his motorcycle and started it up again.

Jason knew the moment that those words had left his mouth that he would become a target. Whatever hold Ra's had on him was gone now. Now, he needed to get out of here.

Without hesitation, he jumped onto his motorcycle and took off into the busy Gotham traffic.

Much to his surprise, he wasn't being pursued.

But he knew that wouldn't last. He expected that within the hour he would have League assassins coming after him.

He just needed to find a place to lay low. Just for a little bit.

* * *

For a moment, Steve had been conflicted.

Jason's accusations that Ra's had been manipulating them had resonated within him. Yet, at the same time Ra's had done nothing but give him everything he needed. His life. His memories. A job he could be proud of…

Jason had always been rebellious. He always fought back against Ra's gifts to them.

When Jason had fled out the window, Steve immediately went to follow him. Much to his surprise, Ra's had come up beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Leave him." He said, smoothing back his hair. "He'll be taken care of by sunrise. I'll make sure the League catches up with him."

"You… You don't plan on killing him, do you?" Steve asked.

Ra's sighed, patting his back. "These things must be taken care of. You know that as well as I do. If he will not comply with me…. I'm afraid I'll have to resolve the issue myself."

He paused, turning Steve to look him in the eye. "I trust that you don't have your doubts in me?" He asked. "The Amazon has not gotten to your head to, has she? I can't afford to have my best assassin turned against me."

Steve's face hardened, and he shook his head. "No, Sir. She tried to, but I'm stronger than that."

Ra's smiled. "I expect nothing more from the Zeitgeist." He replied, fixing his hair and adjusting his suit. "I shall expect the contracts to be carried out in the next two days. I will be returning home and expect to see you there shortly afterwards."

"Consider it done."

"I will, once I see for myself that the two of them are dead." He said, picking up his cane from the floor. "I would hate to have you disappoint me too."

With that, he left.

And with that, the Zeitgeist swore that the Bat and the Amazon would die. He would make sure of it himself.


End file.
